Chapter 8: The Other Woman Who Had Been Paying
I didn't recognize the document.
But I recognized the signature.
It was the same imitation I had seen on the property guarantee.
The capital C was too large.
The final letters were unnaturally connected.
And the date was three years earlier.
I enlarged the page.
The agreement claimed I had agreed to manage a private family investment involving $25,000 from Denise.
It also stated that the money would be returned with interest within eighteen months.
I had never seen it.
I had never received Denise's money.
And I had never managed an investment for Ethan.
I called Denise immediately.
"Did Ethan send you this document?""
"Yes.""
"When?""
"Three years ago. He told me you had prepared it.""
"Did you ever meet with me about the investment?""
"No. He said you were busy and that everything was being handled.""
I stared at the signature.
"Did you ask him about the money when it wasn't returned?""
"Several times.""
"What did he say?""
"He said the investment was temporarily frozen. Then he said the property had developed legal problems. Eventually, Linda told me not to keep bothering him.""
I felt my stomach turn.
"Denise, I'm sorry.""
"Why are you apologizing?""
"Because he used my name.""
Denise sighed.
"Claire, I know you didn't do this. That's why I'm calling you.""
She told me she had kept the original messages because she had never trusted Ethan's explanations.
Then she asked whether I would meet her.
I agreed.
We arranged to meet the following afternoon at a restaurant near her home.
After the call, I downloaded every attachment and saved a separate copy.
Rachel looked at the document.
"He's been doing this for years.""
"Apparently.""
"Do you think Linda knew?""
I looked at the bank transfer.
"She knew enough to ask Denise for the money. She knew enough to tell everyone the property was an investment.""
Rachel shook her head.
"I can't believe this.""
I opened my messages.
There was a new text from Ethan.
*Ethan:* I know you're talking to people behind my back.
I didn't respond.
Another arrived.
*Ethan:* Denise needs to stay out of our marriage.
I stared at the screen.
He knew.
Somehow, he already knew.
I called Denise again.
"Have you told Linda we're meeting?""
"No. Why?""
"Ethan just messaged me.""
Denise went quiet.
"Then I think we need to be careful.""
That evening, I received a call from my attorney, Margaret Collins.
She had reviewed the documents Robert forwarded and wanted to discuss immediate protective steps.
We spoke for nearly an hour.
She explained that I should preserve all original communications, avoid signing anything presented by Ethan or his family, and refrain from discussing the details of the investigation with them.
She also recommended separating my financial accounts where appropriate and documenting any unauthorized use of my personal information.
"Claire," Margaret said, "you need to understand that marital status does not automatically give your husband permission to sign your name or access every asset you own.""
"I understand.""
"Good. And one more thing. Don't go back to the house alone if you believe documents or property may be missing.""
I thought about my grandmother's jewelry box.
"I need to retrieve some personal belongings.""
"We can arrange a supervised retrieval if necessary.""
I thanked her.
The following afternoon, Rachel drove me to meet Denise.
She was waiting at a corner table, wearing a dark green sweater and reading glasses.
When she saw me, she stood.
"Claire.""
We hugged briefly.
She looked at my bruised shoulder.
"Good Lord. Did he really push you?""
"Yes.""
Denise shook her head.
"I told Linda that boy was spoiled beyond belief.""
We sat down.
She placed a thick folder on the table.
"I brought everything.""
Inside were bank statements, printed messages, a copy of the investment agreement, and several handwritten notes.
Denise explained that she had given Ethan the $25,000 after Linda assured her that the investment was safe.
Ethan had promised that the money would be used to purchase a small rental property.
He claimed I was overseeing the financial arrangements because I worked in project management and understood contracts.
But Denise had never received an address, a deed, or a property statement.
After eighteen months, she started asking questions.
Ethan told her the investment was experiencing delays.
Linda told her to be patient.
Then the explanations changed.
The property had been sold.
The buyer had defaulted.
The money was temporarily inaccessible.
Each excuse contradicted the previous one.
"Did you ever receive any money back?"" I asked.
Denise shook her head.
"Not one dollar.""
I opened the oldest message.
Ethan had written:
Claire and I have reviewed everything. Your money is protected.
I felt sick.
"Did he ever mention me directly after that?""
"Constantly. He said you were handling the financial side and that you would explain everything when the timing was right.""
I looked at the signature again.
"Did you ever question whether it was mine?""
"I did. But Linda showed me an email that supposedly came from you.""
My eyes lifted.
"What email?""
Denise removed another page.
It was a printed email with my name in the sender field.
The message said I appreciated Denise's patience and promised that the investment would be resolved.
I read it carefully.
The writing sounded vaguely like mine, but the email address was wrong.
It was a different account.
One I had never used.
"Did you check the address?""
"No. Linda told me it was a temporary business account.""
I took photographs of every page.
Then Denise said something that changed the direction of the conversation.
"There's one person who knows where the money went.""
"Who?""
"Marcus.""
I frowned.
"Why Marcus?""
"Because he was supposed to receive the property. Ethan told me the investment was for Marcus's future.""
I stared at her.
"Marcus received the money?""
"I don't know. But he was involved.""
I looked toward Rachel.
She shook her head slowly.
"That doesn't make sense.""
Denise reached into the folder again.
"This is the last thing I brought.""
She placed a printed bank statement between us.
The transaction date was three days after Denise transferred the $25,000.
The money had entered Ethan's account.
Two days later, $21,500 had been transferred to another account.
The recipient was listed as M. Williams.
Marcus.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"Did you know this?""
"No," Denise said.
"I only found it last week when I finally obtained a copy of the account history through my bank.""
I studied the statement.
Twenty-one thousand five hundred dollars.
Then I noticed the description beside the transfer.
*VEHICLE PURCHASE.*
I looked at Denise.
"Did Marcus buy a car?""
She nodded.
"A black truck. A very expensive one.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Wait. Was that the truck he brought to Linda's house last Christmas?""
Denise nodded again.
I remembered that truck.
Marcus had proudly announced that he had purchased it after receiving a promotion.
Linda had hugged him.
Ethan had raised a glass.
And I had been sitting at the kitchen counter, preparing food for everyone.
I had even helped Marcus arrange a discounted insurance policy through my contact.
The memory made my skin crawl.
I wasn't simply being used to fund their lifestyle.
My identity had been used to disguise the source of the money.
Denise closed the folder.
"Claire, I need that money back.""
I looked at her.
"I know.""
"And I don't want Linda telling everyone I gave it to Ethan as a gift.""
"Did you?""
"No. It was a loan. I have the messages.""
I nodded.
"Then we'll make sure the truth is documented.""
As we stood to leave, Denise grabbed my hand.
"One more thing. Linda called me last night.""
"What did she say?""
"She asked whether I still had the paperwork.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Did you tell her?""
"No.""
Denise looked toward the restaurant entrance.
"She said something strange. She told me that if I wanted to keep the family together, I should stop digging.""
Rachel shook her head.
"That's a threat.""
Denise nodded.
"I thought so too.""
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I opened the message.
It contained a photograph of the inside of my house.
The camera was pointed toward my office desk.
My grandmother's jewelry box was open.
Beside it sat a handwritten note.
*YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED QUIET.*
I looked up.
Rachel had already read it.
"Claire, we need to call your attorney.""
But before I could answer, another message arrived.
This one was from Ethan.
*Ethan:* I know what Denise showed you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.
May you like
Then a final message appeared.
*Ethan:* Ask her why she never told you about the second transfer.
Related Stories
